


We're Gonna Need a Bigger Chopper

by Lalalli



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Shark movie AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 05:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalalli/pseuds/Lalalli
Summary: "I mean, why do they keep bringing me back as a science consultant of they're not even going to listen to me?""Yeah, it's almost like a movie called Sharkaroach doesn't care about scientific plausibility at all," Fitz says, dry.Shark movie AU?Shark movie AU.*Written for Fitzsimmons Appreciation Week 2017Day 4: AU of your choice





	We're Gonna Need a Bigger Chopper

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I was only a media communications major for like, one semester. I don't know how movies work.

“Why am I even here? What’s my purpose?”

Fitz doesn’t even look up from the shark head animatronic he’s re-wiring. “Have you been reading Dostoyevsky again? You’re being weirdly existentialist today.”

Jemma huffs in frustration. “I mean, why do they keep bringing me back as a science consultant if they’re not even going to listen to me! I keep on telling them that it doesn’t even matter how strong acid needs to be to melt shark flesh - that is the least of their concerns when the climax involves using a weather machine to instantaneously create the atmospheric conditions necessary to produce acid rain!”

“Yeah, it’s almost like a movie called Sharkaroach doesn’t care about scientific plausibility at all,” Fitz says, dry.

Working for Selachi Films, a production company devoted exclusively to shark movies, wasn’t exactly what Jemma envisioned for her life when she decided to pursue marine biology. She figured she’d work in conservation or research, not spend her days trying to explain to Grant Ward that there is no plausible roach to shark ratio when one has their skeleton on the outside of their body and the other on the inside.

Fitz, on the other hand, genuinely loves his job. He gets to build robots and make things explode on a regular basis. He’s the only one who listens to Jemma, even went out of his way to seek her input two movies ago when he was trying to create a roller coaster that would launch a car full of grenades into the eye of a shark hurricane.

Jemma slumps against the wall and takes out her phone, pulling up LinkedIn. Maybe she should broaden her job search. There’s got to be a less competitive aquarium in Ohio or Nebraska or somewhere else equally boring that would hire her.

In her peripheral vision, she can see Fitz watching her. He sighs. “Look, I’ll talk to Hunter about the weather machine, okay?”

Jemma brightens, looking up at Fitz. “Really?”

“Yeah. Just -” The corners of his mouth twist into a wry smile. “Don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

*

Selachi Films caters to a very specific niche market, a market composed of people who don’t care about meaningless things like plot or characters or believability or quality in general. Their films don’t tend to garner respect or awards. Because of this, there’s a very high turnover rate of crew members from project to project, even though they tend to just invite everyone to work for them again instead of starting the hiring process over.

After three years of working on various projects with Selachi, Fitz and Jemma are considered veterans. Other people come and go, but Fitz and Jemma always stay. Fitz can’t imagine coming to work without her hovering near him while he works, asking questions about what he’s making. Can’t imagine who else he would go out for drinks with after a frustrating day of dealing with Ward. Can’t imagine watching the movie premieres on Syfy without the two of them on his couch, heckling the questionable science and throwing popcorn at the screen. He hates seeing her so defeated about work - hates thinking about the possibility of her leaving.

Contrary to what Jemma might think, being good at his job doesn’t necessarily make Fitz popular. People tend like what he creates, compliment him on it, even. But he doesn’t really hang out with anyone else in the cast and crew. Not like he does with Jemma.

The only other person who even comes close to resembling a friend is Hunter. Which is why Fitz goes to him for the favor.

“Why are you asking _me_?”

Fitz follows Hunter, trying to keep up with his brisk pace. “Because you’re the production assistant.”

Hunter snorts. “I’m the _producer’s assistant_. Trust me, it’s very different.” Hunter stops in his tracks and looks down, lifting the cardboard coffee carrier away from his body to get a better view of himself. “Shit, it spilled on my trousers.”

“That’s even better - you have Ward’s ear.” Fitz grabs the wad of napkins sandwiched between the cups of coffee and crouches to wipe at Hunter’s legs.

Hunter splutters, taking a step back. “You think you’re helping, but you’re really, really not.”

Fitz rises to his feet. “Look, you’ll be doing them a favor. Think about how anticlimactic it would be if they just melt the monster with rain. We can come up with our own exciting climax instead of borrowing from The Wizard of Oz.”

“Hey! Spoilers!” Hunter protests, indignant. “What the fuck, mate?” He pushes past Fitz and continues walking, muttering to himself.

“Thanks, Hunter!” Fitz calls after him. Hunter just flips him the bird without looking back.

*

“But even if we _could_ steal all the WMDs from North Korea, everyone knows that roaches can survive the nuclear holocaust,” Daisy points out.

Trip grins, leaning forward excitedly. “But not if the atomic bomb goes off _inside its body_!”

“And CUT!” Mack yells.

Fitz finds Jemma sitting on the floor behind the craft services, her back against the wall and legs crossed. She’s staring daggers at the camera crew and biting aggressively into an Asiago bagel. “Carb therapy?” Fitz guesses.

Jemma doesn’t look at him. “It’s my third bagel today.”

Fitz sighs and sits down next to her. “Well, at least there’s no weather machine.”

Mack looks behind him. “Someone find Fitz and let him know we’re ready to film the explosion. And Ward wants us to ask Simmons how far its pieces would scatter. Like, where would Trip find the head?”

Jemma’s eyes widen. “Find the…?” She climbs to her feet and stomps off, yelling, “Does no one here understand the concept behind a _nuclear bomb_?”

*

Jemma flops down on the couch next to Fitz. She looks different, and part of it is that the wrap party is being held at a fairly swanky club, so she’s wearing a dress and her hair is curled in soft waves. But it’s more than that. He also can’t help noticing that since the movie wrapped, her frown lines aren’t as deep, her shoulders aren’t as tense, the bags under her eyes aren’t as dark. And when Jemma turns to smile at him, it hits him.

Fitz has seen a lot of Jemma’s smiles before. He’s seen her grateful smiles when he brings her takeout after a bad day. He’s seen her amused smiles when he makes a bad joke. He’s seen her intrigued smiles when he proposes a new idea.

But this is the first time he’s seen her happy smile. Because that’s what’s different about her. She’s happy to have a break from her shitty job. The job that wears on her and makes her feel undervalued and fails to give her a sense of purpose. The job that he’s been hoping she’ll keep just because he likes having her around.

It’s not until that Jemma waves her hand in front of his face that he realizes he’s been staring. “Are you in there?”

Fitz shakes his head. “Yeah. Sorry - just spaced out for a second.”

Jemma takes a sip from her gin and tonic. “What were you thinking about?”

“Just...I was wondering whether you heard back from the Pacific Marine Aquarium yet.”

Jemma blinks. “Oh.” She looks down. “I mean, I sent in my application, but I haven’t heard back about an interview or anything yet.”

Fitz takes a swig from his beer, steeling himself. “You should call to follow up.”

Jemma looks up at him. “You think so?”

“Definitely. You should go for it. I mean, you can’t work here forever, right?”

Jemma frowns. “You don’t want me to stay?”

Fitz rubs his hand over the back of his head. “No - I just…” He shrugs helplessly. “I like working with you, but you hate it here. And I hate seeing you miserable.”

“I’m not miserable!” Jemma protests. “You make it tolerable. You’re the best part of my job and my actual job is the worst part of my job, so at the end of the day it all evens out.”

Fitz covers her hand with his. “Look, I’m not saying to have to quit tonight. I’m saying - just take all that energy you usually use towards telling Ward that he’s an arrogant dickwad every day and direct it towards getting another job. See if you get it. And then you can decide whether or not you want to move on.”

Jemma nods. “Yeah. I guess I can do that.”

*

The more Jemma thinks about it, the more she knows that Fitz is right. She was miserable at Selachi Films, but she was also comfortable, and it was making it hard for her to move on. And, she has to admit, she didn’t want to move on from Fitz.

But she figures that Fitz can still be her friend regardless of whether or not they're co-workers, so when Jemma gets the job at the aquarium, she texts Fitz as soon as she gets off the phone with HR. He’s excited for her, as she knew he would be, because they’re friends and friends celebrate each other's’ achievements.

And she loves her new job. She loves her new coworkers. She loves working with animals that aren’t robots. It’s a vast improvement on her life in every way except one: she doesn’t see Fitz every day.

They still text all the time, but it’s not as easy to shift to hanging out together when they’re not already in the same place. When they were both on set, it was easy for them to spontaneously decide to go to a bar afterwards or to make plans to hang out in Fitz’s apartment on their day off. And it shouldn’t be that hard to make plans via text, but it seems more formal, somehow, than doing it in person. She doesn’t know what his schedule is like anymore, or if there’s a new coworker he’s spending his time with, or whether they’ll have anything in common now that they don’t work together.

Jemma misses Fitz with an ache that she thinks is more profound than just missing her favorite coworker. She misses his crooked smiles, his self-deprecating sense of humor, his unconditional support, his casual affection. It all seems so obvious in hindsight. She doesn’t know how she could have missed it.

So when Jemma arrives at the premiere party at Hunter’s house a few months later and sees Fitz standing there, looking as handsome as ever in a blue knit jumper and slim trousers, she can’t help but fling herself into his arms, burying her face into his chest.

“Hi,” he laughs, surprised.

“I missed you,” Jemma tells him, her voice muffled.

“I missed you, too.” He hesitates for a fraction of a second before tilting his head to kiss her hair. “Come on. I saved you a seat.”

The movie is just as terrible and ridiculous as Jemma thought it would be, but it’s also fun. Probably a large part of that is that she gets to watch it while snuggled into Fitz’s side, gets to hear his running commentary in her ear the whole time, gets to know that out of everyone at the party, he’s still choosing her.

After the party, Fitz walks her home, and Jemma spends the whole walk trying to think of a way to tell him that she wants to see him every day, wishes they could be stuck at the hip again. He should know that he’s her best friend. She should also probably let him know that she’s in love with him, though that particular confession can wait for another time.

Once they’re in front of Jemma’s flat, Fitz takes Jemma’s hand. “We need to talk.”

Jemma looks down at their intertwined fingers, then back up at Fitz’s eyes. “Yeah. I’ve been wanting to talk to you, too.”

Fitz takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “Look, Jemma, we’ve been through a lot together. And if things go wrong and this is the last chance we have to talk, I don’t want to waste it.”

Jemma’s eyebrows wrinkle, confused. “Why would it be our last chance to-”

“I just want you to know that all the crazy things we’ve seen - the sharks falling from the sky like rain, the shark plague, the sharcanos and the sharkquakes, I wouldn’t give any of that up. I wouldn’t change a thing because it’s what brought us together.”

Jemma’s face lights up in recognition. “Oh my God,” she laughs.

“So I want you to know that when we go out there tomorrow and we launch those grenades into the eye of that shark hurricane, I need you to survive. Because even though the world is ending, I want to spend every moment remaining with you. I love-”

Jemma pulls Fitz towards her and surges up to press her lips to his. He’s grinning when she pulls away. “I didn’t get to finish,” he complains.

“It was very impressive.” Jemma winds her arms around his neck, letting her body rest against his. “How long did it take you to memorize that speech from Sharkpocalypse Now?”

“Not long. I used to help Daisy run her lines,” Fitz admits.

Jemma hums in thought and reaches down to take Fitz’s hand. “Maybe you should come in with me. I’d be interested to see what other scenes you have memorized.”

Fitz follows her as she pulls him towards her door. “Yeah? What did you have in mind.”

“Remember that scene from The Noteshark?”

Fitz laughs, immediately drawing Jemma in for another kiss, deeper this time. He bends down a bit, placing his palms on the back of her thighs, catching her when she jumps and wraps her legs around him. “Yeah,” Fitz says into her mouth as he opens the door and carries Jemma inside. “That’s one of my favorites too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might come back later and change the ending. I don't know how crazy I am about this one.


End file.
